The Chronicles of Tom Riddle
by Miss Anders
Summary: Lord Voldemort, or as a Child known as Tom Riddle, has a story. From Hogwarts to the world's most powerful Dark Wizard; these are the stories chronicled here. See why he made the decisions he did. Why he chose a life of darkness. Rated T until later chapters.
1. Introduction

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

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Merope Gaunt was in a massive amount of pain. The last thing she remembered, she was pulled off of the streets and into an orphanage, watching the New Year's fireworks show near London. She knew her child was coming soon. She wouldn't have to suffer much longer… She wouldn't have to sell her small amount of belongings for scraps. She was ready to claim her freedom. Her true freedom.

"Come on, girl! Push! You're almost there, dear!" came a shrill voice from the foot of the bed. And push, the poor witch did.

Finally, she felt a relief; a satisfied and euphoric feeling. "Congratulations. It's a boy!" The matron was holding her newborn child. Merope held out her hands, taking her child. "His name shall be Tom Marvolo Riddle. Tom, for his father, Marvolo for his grandfather. Riddle was his father's surname."

"I hope he looks like his papa," Merope smiled. She let out a soft sigh as she breastfed her child for the first and only time before handing her child over to the matron. Once the child had been removed from her arms, she closed her eyes to the world, leaving poor Tom Marvolo Riddle to be raised without a proper family. To be subjected to a childhood of loneliness and misery.

And this is how Tom Riddle came to live at St. Wool's Orphanage in London.

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A/N:  
So, this is my first multi-chapter fanfiction... and I have plans to make it a long one. At least 100 Chapters. This fanfiction is of how Tom Riddle grew and became Lord Voldemort; His Hogwarts years, his travels, the Wizarding Wars. This is through Tom's perspective. I am trying to write him as I see him; cold, cruel, and self-sufficient. As a human, he will of course have moments of decency and feelings. I have no intentions of giving Tom a pairing, so please do not ask. There will, however, be some 'smut' as well as triggers. Warnings for such triggers will be mentioned before each chapter.


	2. Chapter 1: Welcome to the World

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The dialogue used in this chapter between Dumbledore and Tom Riddle comes from _Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince,_ where Dumbledore and Harry take a look at the memory.

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**St. Wool's Orphanage**

**August 26th, 1938**

Tom Riddle sat alone in his room. Mrs. Cole had told him to straighten up; a gentleman would be coming to talk to Tom about going to a 'Special school.' Tom just knew that she had called this man in an attempt to get rid of him. This was the third 'professor' that had been brought in to see him in the past two years. He didn't care. He never cared. If the old bat wanted rid of him, she could do it. However, none of the professors seemed to think he was 'crazy' enough or 'special' enough. So today, after he had cleaned his small room and hid his trophies he had gathered from his housemates, he sat silently on his bed and waited.

Tom read while he waited. He was always reading when he could find the time. He sat up straight as a knock came at the door. "Tom?" She heard Mrs. Cole, the orphanage matron, call. "You've got a visitor." She said, opening the door. "This is Mr. Dumberton – Sorry, Dumbledore. He's come to tell you… Well, I'll let him do it." She stepped aside to let the gentleman inside. The man had auburn hair, both on his head and in his beard, and he was wearing… A plum, velvet suit of all things!

As the man entered, Mrs. Cole let, closing the door behind her. Tom felt weird with this strange man in his bare room. He wondered what the man thought of his iron bed and ratty wardrobe. Tom closed his book in his lap and sat on the edge of the bed. "How do you do, Tom?" The man asked, stepping forward and offering his hand. Tom hesitated, then reached out and shook the older man's hand. The man, Dumbledore, pulled up the hard, wooden chair beside Tom. "I am Professor Dumbledore."

"Professor?" Tom repeated, giving the man a wary look. "Is that like 'doctor'?" Tom just knew he was right in this. The matron was trying to get him 'help' again. "What are you here for? Did she get you in here to have a look at me?" He pointed at the closed door in which Mrs. Cole had just exited.

Dumbledore smiled at the boy, "No, no."

"I don't believe you. She wants me looked at, doesn't she?" Tom asked, feeling annoyed by this strange man. "Tell the truth!" Tom commanded, his eyes going wide, glaring at the stranger, who only smiled in return. Finally, Tom stopped glaring, though still looked wary. "Who are you?"

"I have told you," The man started. "My name is Professor Dumbledore and I work at a school called Hogwarts. I have come to offer you a place at my school," He looked at Tom over the rim of his half-moon glasses, "Your new school, if you would like to come."

Tom's reaction surprised Albus Dumbledore. He jumped from the bed and took a step back, the look on his face was furious. "You can't kid me!" Tom yelled, "The asylum, that's where you're from isn't it?" He questioned. "'Professor,' yes, of course – well, I'm not going, see? That old cat's the one who should be in the asylum. I never did anything," Tom's voice faltered a bit, almost like he felt like he was lying, "to little Amy Benson or Dennis Bishop, and you can ask them, they'll tell you!"

Patiently, Dumbledore told Tom, "I am not from the asylum. I am a teacher and, if you will sit down calmly, I shall tell you about Hogwarts. Of course, if you would rather not come to the school, nobody will force you – "

Tom interrupted this Professor, sneering, "I'd like to see them try."

Dumbledore, however, went on as if he hadn't heard Tom, "Hogwarts is a school for people with special abilities –"

"I'm not mad!" Tom shouted at this strange man.

"I know that you are not mad. Hogwarts is not a school for mad people. It's a school of magic." Suddenly everything went silent. Tom was frozen, no expression on his face. His eyes moved back and forth between each of Dumbledore's piercing blue eyes, as if trying to see if he was lying.

"Magic?" Tom whispered.

"That's right," Dumbledore answered.

"It's… It's magic," Tom requested, still whispering, "What I can do?"

"What is it that you can do?"

"All sorts," Tom breathed. A million questions had suddenly popped into his mind at this. He was excited at this development. He flushed, looking fevered. "I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them." He kept thinking of incidents that had happened recently, "I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to," He finished, legs trembling. He stumbled as he went and sat down on his bed. He bowed his head and staring at his hands. "I knew," He breathed out in a whisper, "I was different. I knew I was special. Always, I knew there was something."

"Well," Dumbledore started, "you were quite right." He watched the young boy intently, no longer smiling. "You are a wizard."

Tom lifted his head. He looked wildly happy, yet the look of happiness wasn't an appealing look on his face. His expression seemed almost… bestial. "Are you a wizard too?"

"Yes, I am."

"Prove it." Tom commanded

"If, as I take it," Dumbledore said, with raised eyebrows, "you are accepting your place at Hogwarts – "

"Of course I am!"

"Then," Dumbledore said sternly, "you will address me as 'Professor' or 'sir'."

Tom's expression hardened for a fleeting moment before he politely said, "I'm sorry, sir. I meant – please, Professor, could you show me –?" The professor reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a long piece of wood with a delicate handle. He pointed it at the shabby little wardrobe in the corner of the room and gave the stick a casual flick.

The wardrobe burst into flames.

Tom immediately jumped to his feet, sounds of shock and rage coming from the boy. Everything he owned… Everything he possessed… was in that wardrobe. Tom rounded on Dumbledore, but as he did, the flames vanished, leaving the wardrobe unharmed.

Relieved and greedy, he looked from his wardrobe to the stick that the Professor possessed. "Where can I get one of them?" He questioned.

"All in good time," Dumbledore said. "I think there is something trying to get out of your wardrobe." A faint rattling came from inside the wardrobe. Tom suddenly looked frightened. "Open the door." Tom hesitated, then crossed the small room and opened the wardrobe door. On the topmost shelf, his box of trophies was shaking as there were several frantic rodents trapped inside. "Take it out." Dumbledore told the boy. Tom took the box out, looking a bit unnerved. "Is there something in that box that you ought not have?" Dumbledore asked.

Tom threw the Professor a calculating look. "Yes, I suppose so, sir," his said, no expression in his voice.

"Open it." Tom took off the top and emptied the contents on the bed without looking at them. There were everyday, common objects: a yo-yo, a small silver thimble, a tarnished looking mouth organ. Once they were on the blankets, they stopping quivering. Dumbledore replaced his wand to his jacket and calmly said to the boy, "You will return them to their owners with your apologies. I shall know whether it has been done. And be warned," Dumbledore stared down to the boy, "Thieving is not tolerated at Hogwarts."

"Yes, sir," Tom replied, looking appraisingly at the man.

"At Hogwarts, we teach you not only to use magic, but to control it." Dumbledore continued, looking at young Tom Riddle. "You have – inadvertently, I am sure – been using your powers in a way that is neither taught nor tolerated at our school. You are not the first, nor will you be the last, to allow your magic to run away with you. But you should know that Hogwarts can expel students, and the Ministry of Magic," The look on Tom's face of curiosity stopped Dumbledore for just a moment, "yes, there is a Ministry," He answered the boy's unasked question, "will punish lawbreakers still more severely. All new wizards must accept that, in entering our world, they abide by our laws."

"Yes, sir," Riddle answered again. His expression was quite blank. He put the stolen objects back into the cardboard box. When he finished, he turned to Dumbledore, "I haven't got any money."

"That is easily remedied," Dumbledore answered, pulling a leather money-pouch from his pocket. "There is a fund at Hogwarts for those who require assistance to buy books and robes. You might have to buy some of your spellbooks and so on secondhand, but –"

"Where do you buy spellbooks?" Tom interrupted, who had taken the pouch from Dumbledore without gratitude, and was now examining a golden Galleon.

"In Diagon Alley," Dumbledore stated. "I have your list of books and school equipment with me. I can help you find everything –"

"You're coming with me?" Tom asked, looking at the man who had just explained to him his entire life and linage.

"Certainly, if you –"

"I don't need you." Tom answered. "I'm used to doing things for myself, I go round London on my own all the time. How do you get to this Diagon Ally –" Tom caught Dumbledore's eye, "Sir?" He added.

Dumbledore handed Tom the yellowed envelope containing the list of supplies. He then explained to Tom how to get to a place called the Leaky Cauldron from St. Wool's. "You will be able to see it, although muggles around you – non-magical people, that is – will not," he explained. Ask for Tom the barman – easy enough to remember, as he shares your name –" Dumbledore paused, seeing the twitch of Tom's face. "You dislike the name 'Tom'?"

"There are a lot of Toms," the boy answered. He then questioned, no longer able to contain it, "Was my father a wizard? He was called Tom Riddle too, they've told me."

"I'm afraid I don't know," said Dumbledore with a gentle voice.

"My mother," Tom started in a small, mostly to himself voice, "can't have been magic, or she wouldn't have died. It must've been him. So – when I've got all my stuff – when do I come to this Hogwarts?"

Dumbledore then explained, "All the details are on the second piece of parchment in your envelope. You will leave from King's Cross Station on the first of September. There is a train ticket in there too."

Riddle gave a nod. Dumbledore stood, holding his hand out again. Riddle took it and asked, "I can speak to snakes. I found out when we've been on the country on trips – they find me, they whisper to me. Is that," he looked up at the man, "normal for a wizard?"

"It is unusual," said Dumbledore, then hesitated, "but not unheard of." His tone had appeared casual, though his was looking curiously at Tom. For a moment, they stared at each other. Then the handshake was broken and Dumbledore was at the door. "Good-bye, Tom. I shall see you at Hogwarts."

On that note, Dumbledore walked out of the room, leaving Tom Riddle with a list of supplies and a new outlook on his future.

~o~o~

The next morning, Tom woke up before everyone else. If Mrs. Cole hadn't known better, she would have thought he was excited. After the strange professor had left yesterday evening, Tom had explained to her that he would be attending a special school and would have to report to King's Cross Station on September 1st, by 9 o'clock AM. He said the train left at 11 o'clock, but he wanted to be early to get a good seat.

Once the grandfather clock on the main floor struck noon, Tom quickly ate his lunch. He explained to the Matron that he needed to go to London and get supplies. He had held up the money pouch when she asked if he needed a bit of change to help. "The Professor said the school has a fund for students that need it." He almost looked ashamed as he told her. After a quiet fuss over Tom taking someone older with him, the Matron conceded, allowing Tom to go forward alone.

Now, Tom walked the streets of London, following the directions he had jotted down after Dumbledore took his leave. Every few minutes, his hand would drift to his pocket and jingle the pouch of coins. He had to be sure they were still there. He had never had so much money at any point in time. When they go to London as an orphanage, the Matron and the helpers would give them a few coins to buy small sweets if they wanted them. Tom saved his up every weekend to buy books.

Finally, Tom looked across the street and saw the place he was looking for: The Leaky Cauldron. He quickly crossed the street and headed inside. It looked like a typical Inn. He walked up to the bar and found a young man, perhaps in his early twenties, taking the drink orders of a few older witches.

"Excuse me," Tom addressed the man. "I'm looking for a man named Tom."

"Well kid, you've found 'im," the barkeep stated. "Lookin' for Diagon Alley? Dumbledore told me to keep an eye out for a few of you."

The younger Tom nodded, "Yes." The barkeep waved his hand and two full glasses of an amber liquid flew towards the witches. He then walked from behind the bar and motioned for Tom to follow him.

They arrived to a small courtyard. A waste bin was sitting in front of the wall, which Tom found to be very strange. "Now kid, this is how you will get into the Alley until you're old enough to apparate or have access to the Floo Network." The younger Tom, though confused, nodded. The Barkeep took out his wand, "To enter, you have to tap the brick that is three up and two across from the waste bin." The older Tom tapped the brick and a small hole appeared. Then it started to get bigger and bigger until the opening was large enough to walk through.

"Take your time, boy. Learn your way around. Ask a shopkeeper if you need help finding a certain store," The barkeep looked down at the child. "When you come back, I'll give you something to eat."

Finally, Tom looked up at the young man. He was a little confused at how he was being treated. No one had ever been this helpful to him. "Thank you," The words felt weird coming from his mouth. He gave an awkward wave and walked into Wizarding London for the first time.

~o~o~

Four and a half hours later, Tom had gathered all of the items he needed from his supply list. He had managed to convince the shop owner at the Secondhand Supplies store to put a weightless charm on his trunk so that he could put his bags in it and carry out by himself. He checked his pouch and found he still have 5 Galleons, 6 Sickles and 10 Knuts lefts. He was happy that he was able to swap his 'muggle' money for more Wizarding money.

He wondered if he could open an accoun at Gringotts, the Wizard bank. Or perhaps he should hold on to this gold, in case he needed it at Hogwarts. For the moment, he decided to hold it. He headed back down the Alley, heading towards the Leaky Cauldron again. He walked back through to the Pub.

"Ah, Tom!" The barkeep exclaimed upon seeing the boy. "Come have a seat. I'll have something for you to eat in a mo'." Tom obliged, sitting his trunk beside a stool, the climbing up to have a seat. The barkeep placed a bowl of lamb stew and a glass of orange juice in front of the young boy. Tom took a sip of the juice, realizing that it happened to be pumpkin juice. He tried the stew. To him, it was the best stew he's ever had. None of the workers at that god-forsaken orphanage knew how to cook, it seems.

Once Tom finished, the barkeep told him the meal was on the house and to have a good year at Hogwarts. Tom left a four of his sickles on the table as a tip before grabbing his trunk and leaving the pub. As he walked down the streets of London, all Tom could think about was that in a week, he would be at Hogwarts where he belonged.t

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A/N:

So, I've decided to post all I've written so far, just so everyone can see how the Chapters will work. I will try to Update by Tuesday every week. Some times it may be sooner.


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